


chasing rainbows

by lockedinmybody



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Death, Neck Kissing, Phil isn't heavily featured, Slow Burn, don't read if you're lactose intolerant bc its a massive cheese fest, i am not great at tagging im sorry, mentions of Paul - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedinmybody/pseuds/lockedinmybody
Summary: “You ready?” Lola, the director’s assistant and one of the few people on set who can tolerate Ben,  says with a broad grin as she bounces over. Ben looks at her blankly.“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t remember,” she rolls her eyes at him, “you need to make this work Ben. They’ve searched high and low for someone who can last a bit longer.”Ben watches Lola’s large shiny earrings catch the light as she moves her head. He was given strict instructions; we’ve found a good weather presenter, he is staying, you’re going to be civil at the very least, and you will make this work.“Plus, he’s the nicest bloke ever. Even you won’t be able to deny that.” Lola throws over her shoulder as she walks off.We’ll see about that.***Ben Mitchell has been the familiar face of news station Walford Local for a number of years now. He loves his job, but not everyone loves him, and he's been the reason they've gone through too many weather presenters in recent years. In walks Callum Highway, the man who needs to change that.or, the newsreader/weather presenter AU no one asked for but I really wanted to write so there you go.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 61
Kudos: 175





	chasing rainbows

“And that’s all for tonight. Thank you for watching, and have a great evening.” Ben nods at the camera, one corner of his mouth slightly tilted up, and waits for the camera to pan away, the lights dimming before the blinking red light turns off and the producer raises his hand.

He blows out a long breath as he shuffles the sheets of paper on his desk.

“That went alright didn’t it?” A slightly nasal voice sounds from beside him. Ben looks up at him as Ian grins. “Yeah,” Ben says slowly, “though you are a weatherman in Britain, rarely the bearer of good news.” Ian tuts at him and rolls his eyes, strolling off the set with an amount of confidence Ben can’t wrap his head around.

They’ve gone through quite a few weather presenters in the past months. It was starting to become embarrassing, having to introduce new faces all the time only for them to disappear within a few weeks because they refused to work with Ben Mitchell.   
The higher ups were starting to get properly worked up as well, Ben could tell. He couldn’t afford to kick off, not even when Ian Beale ends up getting the position even though the only thing he can barely pull off is reading lines from a prompter.    
But they needed stability, desperately trying to get rid of the image of a self-obsessed news presenter who can’t work with anyone. Ben had seen the articles. He didn’t care much. He was good at his job, probably the only reason he hadn’t been fired yet. And he likes it, too. Just not when he has to work with incompetent people.

“You ready?” Lola, the director’s assistant and one of the few people on set who can tolerate Ben, says with a broad grin as she bounces over. Ben looks at her blankly.

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t remember,” she rolls her eyes at him, “you need to make this work Ben. They’ve searched high and low for someone who can last a bit longer.”

Ben watches Lola’s large shiny earrings catch the light as she moves her head. He was given strict instructions; we’ve found a good weather presenter, he is staying, you’re going to be civil at the very least, and you  _ will  _ make this work.   
“Plus, he’s the nicest bloke ever. Even you won’t be able to deny that.” Lola throws over her shoulder as she walks off.

We’ll see about that.

  
  


***

The knot in Ben’s stomach grows as he tries to avoid eye contact with the man at the other side of the large table. His eyes glide over the whiteboard at the front of the room, the notes that haven’t been fully wiped off yet. The view from the windows, their building tucked away in the corner of the town, other office buildings across the road. 

But his eyes flick back every now and then, he can’t help it. The ramblings of his supervisor about how great of an asset their new weather presenter is going to be don’t sound like they’re words anymore, just noises. Sounds, indistinguishable. 

The new weatherman looks at him as well. He’s nervous, Ben can tell. The tips of his big ears are red, a slightly darker shade than the red in his cheeks. He politely smiles whenever their eyes meet and Ben sees dimples appear each time. He’s got his folded hands in his lap and he keeps moving them, wringing them together. 

He’s wearing a simple suit; white dress shirt, black trousers and jacket and a black tie. Classic. Probably what Ben would’ve worn to his first day as well.

He knows he’s giving the new guy too stern of a look, because he stops looking back after a while. His gaze withdraws a bit, and to Ben’s surprise, he finds himself feeling a bit guilty.

“So Callum, we hope you will enjoy working here at Walford Local, we feel very lucky to have you, and I’m sure Ben can help you with anything you need.” Ben’s boss, Kathy, gives him a tight smile, and Ben nods. 

Callum shakes hands with Kathy, who then leaves the room.

“Right,” Ben says, after a few beats of silence, “well, uhm, welcome, I guess.”

Callum huffs a small laugh. “Thanks,” he looks to the side for a moment, hesitating, “I take it you’re not too keen on new colleagues?”

Ben’s head shoots up at that. There’s not even the slightest amount of vitriol in Callum’s tone and he’s probably just trying to make light conversation but Ben isn’t having it. “Don’t mind it, as long as they can do their job.” He clenches his jaw, nostrils flared, and the tiny amount of comfort that had settled in Callum’s posture goes again.

“I’ll see ya,” Ben says as he pushes his chair back, leaving Callum behind in the conference room.

  
  


It’s not until just before they have to go on for the evening news that Ben sees him again. He had spent most of the afternoon hiding in his dressing room, pretending to be intensely studying the news he had to talk about, doing some extra research, when the main thing he wanted to do was not be around Callum. Kathy had walked by at some point, leaning against the doorway and tutting at him, obviously not fooled by his pretending to suddenly care a lot more than usual about his job.    
Truth is, Ben has been doing this for a while, but Kathy has been there longer. She’s like a mother to him, and more often than not, she’s the one person on set who can give Ben hard truths and actually have him _ listen _ .   
  


Ben pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. He’d normally already be in his chair by now but he can’t bring himself to get up. It feels childish and petty, hiding away like this, and for the first time since his first ever broadcast, Ben finds himself wishing he didn’t have to go on the air tonight.

He’s annoyed as he begrudgingly makes his way to set. Since when did he let a new hire get to him like this?  _ Callum  _ is the one who has something to prove here, not him. Ben’s already earned his place, and despite his polarizing effect, there’s no one on set who wouldn’t admit he’s actually good at his job, albeit through gritted teeth.    
  
“Right,” Ben sighs as he lets himself drop onto the chair behind his desk, eyes scanning around until they briefly meet Callum’s, standing at the side, arms crossed over his chest, “let’s do this, shall we?”

There’s a story about a break-in at a local shop run by an elderly couple, a follow-up on the plans to renovate a park and then they switch over to a correspondent standing in said park, at which point Callum walks onto set and stands in front of the big screen, ready for Ben to lead him in. 

Normally Ben keeps his eyes on his monitor, allowing him to make a smooth transition from one segment to another, but he sees Callum tugging on his tie and smoothing down his suit jacket in the corner of his eye and his eyes wander before he can stop them. He looks a bit nervous, clearly trying to mentally calm himself down, focus, and he takes a deep breath and drops his shoulders.   
When he breathes out his eyes meet Ben’s, and Ben gives him a simple nod, to which he gets one in return. Ben wasn’t the cocky know-it-all with a witty response ready at all times he is now back when he first started, and in that moment he can’t bring himself to not care about Callum doing well.

“Thank you very much,” Ben says when the footage cuts back to him in the studio, “and that just leaves the weather! And for that we have Callum Highway. Callum, what’s in store?” 

Callum gives him a smile that’s more for the camera then anything else, but Ben feels the corners of his own mouth turn up a little anyway.    
Callum thanks him and then goes on to the weather forecast. Ben looks around, now that the camera isn’t on him. They’ve been doing this with mostly the same group of people for a while now, so it’s not unusual for anyone to not pay attention if they don’t have to, instead looking at their phones. 

But everyone’s looking at Callum. Ben does too. Long limbs stretching across the screen to point at something. He seems relaxed, more than most people would be whilst they’re on live television for the first time. The only thing that gives him away a little bit is the slight flush in his cheeks from concentrating. 

“So the weekend’s looking good! There’s a small chance of rain on Saturday morning but if it comes it won’t last long, and Sunday will be mostly sunny before more rain and clouds next week. Have a great weekend,” Callum signs off with a smile, and the camera cuts to Ben, “that’s all from us for now, goodnight and have a good weekend. Bye.”

It feels like he’s holding his breath until the lights come up again, several people immediately walking up to Callum to congratulate him. Ben pretends to rearrange his notes. He can hear gushing, and Callum minimizing every compliment he gets. Something ugly turns in Ben’s stomach. 

Kathy walks up to Callum as well. “That went alright, didn’t it? How are you feeling?” She touches his arm for a moment and Callum smiles broadly. “Yeah, I feel good.”    
“You’ll grow into it, don’t worry,” she pats him on the shoulder once more, “we’re really happy to have you here.”

Callum searches for Ben’s eyes once Kathy’s wandered off, but Ben’s already gone.

  
  
  
He’s just about to leave his dressing room, hoping to sneak off unnoticed and go home, when Lola drops by. 

“We’re going to the Vic for a drink with a few of us, to celebrate Callum’s first day. You joining us?” It’s been a habit for years now, and Ben has been to all of them, not one to turn down drinks on the boss. Not going now would be too obvious. 

He gives Lola a tight smile. “Yeah, sure.”   
  
Ben regrets his decision to tag along as soon as they’re seated. There’s more of them than Ben thought, and he doesn’t miss the way how one of the makeup girls and one girl on their research team are quick to claim their spot on either side of Callum. Hell, the sound guy has been throwing Callum looks, lingering too long for it to mean nothing. 

That same uneasy feeling from before returns, twisting his insides, and Ben is the first one to get through his first pint. 

“You were  _ so _ good! I can’t believe that was your first time on telly, you’ve got to be lying!” One of the makeup girls giggles, leaning into Callum with a hand on his arm, and even though everyone at the table knows what she’s trying to do, they nod along.    
“Yeah, well done mate,” Lola says with a smile, lifting her wine glass. Everyone else at the table does the same (except Ben), and Callum shoots her a grateful smile.    
  
Ben gets up as soon as everyone’s glasses are back on the table, getting another pint from the bar and then getting back to his seat.

Lola raises her eyebrows at him. “What?” Ben says, his tone flat. Lola rolls her eyes. “Go easy will ya, I ain’t carrying you home.”

He lets the chatter around the table rumble past his ears, not focusing enough to actually hear what’s happening. Callum looks at him a few times, in between conversations, but Ben looks away quickly each time. 

“You were brilliant Callum, you should be proud of yourself,” Kathy says then, and Ben catches it, looking up to see her genuinely smiling at Callum. 

“Only his first day, calm down,” Ben says, because he can’t help himself, because he’s nearly done with his second pint and everyone is suddenly in love with Callum Highway, no one has ever met anyone nicer or kinder, and Ben feels  _ sick _ . 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Ben doesn’t miss the confused and slightly hurt look Callum gives him, before Kathy pipes up again. “Either you get yourself together, or you leave,” she bites, the same tiredness and disappointment in her eyes that Ben’s seen quite often in the past few months. Ben stays silent and sips the rest of his pint. 

The conversation picks up again, and Ben tunes it all out.    
His eyes trail over Callum, who is intently listening to whoever is speaking; one of Kathy’s assistants Ben thinks. 

  
It’s not that Ben wants all the attention on him. All of this fawning over Callum, Ben would hate to have that. He doesn’t need everyone to like him, and he knows most people don’t. People liking you doesn’t help you get what you want. As soon as you start caring about that, you’ve lost.    
But everyone is acting like Callum’s this saint, this perfect man who can do no wrong, when he’s only just strolled into the studio on his first day. No one really knows him, Ben doesn’t think. You can’t be  _ that  _ perfect, no one is. All humble and reserved, hair neatly coiffed but not too slick, eyes sparkling like he’s a fucking cartoon character, big stupid ears and a flush in his cheeks as soon as someone mentions his name.    
His entire image is too clean and polished, so something’s probably off. And Ben’s already getting tired of the constant stream of praise and approval toward him. 

Ben downs the remainder of his pint and exits the pub without another word.

  
  


***

  
  


Lola brings him a coffee the next morning, his limbs heavy as Ben drags himself to his dressing room. She puts the coffee on the table and sits down on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other.

“Go on then, what d’ya make of Callum?” 

Ben rubs a hand over his face and takes a sip of coffee. His head is pounding, he’d carried on drinking when he got home last night. “I don’t make anything of him, barely know the bloke,” Ben grumbles, and he gets an eye roll in response.

“So why don’t you make an effort?” Lola says, a slight irritation to her voice stemming from years of friendship with Ben Mitchell and having to watch him make life difficult for himself. She leans forward when Ben stays silent, “how much did you drink last night at home on your own in the dark?”    
  


Ben wants to snap at her but she doesn’t look judging, just worried. “You’re acting like him being here means you lose your job, it don’t work like that. You’ve just gotta make some room for him.” Ben leans his bum against the edge of the desk, fingers fiddling with the lid of the take-away coffee cup. “How was it then, after I left?”

“Well, the mood lightened a bit,” Lola says pointedly and Ben doesn’t really blame her, “but he opened up a bit, told a bit about himself.”

Ben opens his mouth but Lola knows him too well. “I ain’t gonna tell you anything, if you want to get to know him, you go and talk to him yourself.” She pats his shoulder before she leaves.

A long stream of air blows out of Ben’s mouth. He grabs a few painkillers from one of the drawers in his dressing room and takes them.

It’s not just that everyone adores Callum, it’s the fact that apparently Ben is a dick for  _ not _ adoring him. Something somewhere deep down in Ben knows that he should give the bloke a chance, but Callum’s  _ so  _ likeable that it gets on his nerves. 

The more everyone pushes Ben to be more friendly, the more Ben can’t wait for Callum to leave. Or for him to do something wrong and have him fall off his pedestal and everyone can start acting normal again.

When Ben gets to set, it’s still fairly quiet. They’re a small news station and it’s early in the morning; only the necessary people are present.

Callum’s sitting just off to the side, switching between his phone and a tablet he’s placed on his lap. Ben can see from where he’s standing that he’s looking at a meteorological map, colours swirling across the screen.    
He decides to put his notes on his desk and then walks over to Callum, awkwardly hovering when Callum doesn’t notice him straight away, or pretends not to. 

“You, uh,” Ben starts, clearing his throat when Callum looks up at him with those big blue eyes, not unfriendly but definitely cautious, “you did good, yesterday.”

Callum blinks at him once, and Ben wishes he could disappear.

As the words leave his mouth he realises how pretentious he sounds, like Ben’s opinion is the only one that matters, like it’s only after a compliment from Ben Mitchell that you  _ actually _ know you did well, and he’s half expecting Callum to snipe back at him.

But Callum mumbles something that sounds vaguely like ‘okay’, accompanied by a polite nod, and then Ben makes his way back to his desk. 

As he goes through his notes without reading a single word, Ben’s careful to avoid eye contact with Callum. It’s not long before Habiba, one of the makeup artists, stands at his desk, one hand perched on her hip as she waits for him to finish. 

Ben leans back in his seat as she looks at him, glossed lips pursed as she keeps whatever she wants to say inside.    
“I could use some airbrushing, I know,” Ben says, eyebrows raised, and Habiba flips one side of her hair back over her shoulder before moving in closer with a brush and a small pot. Not the first time she gets to hide the remnants of Ben’s wallow in misery.

“A little more attention to skincare would help a lot, you know,” Habiba says, resting a thumb to the side of Ben’s eye as she applies concealer under his eye.    
“Did you get that moisturizer I told you about?” Ben shoots her a quick unimpressed glance and Habiba tuts at him.    
He had looked it up online to be fair, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit he was now in the phase of his life where he had to spend exorbitant amounts of money on creams and serums in a mostly futile attempt to stop showing the effect of time. 

Someone from the back yells something about thirty seconds and Habiba steps away for a second, taps her finger near Ben’s eye and then smiles, satisfied. 

As she struts off Ben’s eyes flick to the side, Callum already looking back at him. He keeps his eyes on Ben, even as the countdown from ten starts, and Ben realises that last time Callum may have been too nervous to pay attention to anything else but his own job, but he seems fairly confident now, and Ben’s stomach does something funny at the idea that Callum is going to watch him do his job. 

Ben’s name gets called and he quickly snaps into place, plastering on a smile as the recording light starts to blink again. 

He gets through it all right; there’s no stumbling over words or a suddenly blank mind but Ben knows he isn’t his usual self either. He seems on edge, and he feels it too. 

Callum, on the other hand, gets through his bit with the same grace and ease he had before, any trace of first-time jitters now gone, and Ben sees why Kathy wants to hold on to him for as long as she can. He’s perfect for the job, and not just because he’s good at it. He has the softness and friendly feel that you’d want in a weatherman, especially for a local news station. And for the first time in his career, Ben thinks that if it came to it, Kathy might just pick Callum over Ben. 

  
  


***

  
  


Ben hopes that it will go away. The nagging feeling that creeps up on him any time he sees Callum around set, in the break room laughing with some of the others. There’s even the one time he asks Lola to hang out after work and she declines because she was already going to do a similar thing with Callum. She asks him to tag along of course, but Ben turns that offer down. 

It never settles, and it drives Ben crazy. Every other new hire they’ve ever had,  _ especially _ the weather presenters who were forced to work with Ben, eventually faded to the background and then left not long after. 

Ben’s been working at Walford Local for as long as he can remember. It was his first real adult job, it’s all he knows. 

He just wants things to go back to normal, back to something recognizable. Things don’t always need to change to become better, sometimes things are fine the way they are.

But Callum Highway doesn’t fade to the background. Doesn’t become normal, part of the decor just like everyone else. He catches Ben’s eye whenever he sees him, he can’t help it. Callum stands out, not because he’s loud or rude or extravagant; he’s none of those things. 

He’s the thing that Ben always notices. Those blue eyes are unavoidable and in a room full of people, Callum somehow always ends up in the foreground, not because of his own doing, but because of the way Ben looks at him.

Ben  _ hates _ it. He can’t stand the feeling that somehow, he’s become like everyone else and is now also obsessed with Callum Highway. 

He tries not to show it though. Ben’s always been more comfortable with the snide and snarky. 

That’s how he gets through the following weeks. He keeps contact with Callum to a minimum and if they do need to interact and there’s no rolling cameras pointing at them, Ben gives him the cold shoulder. 

He happens to be in the break room at the same time as Callum, grabbing the last of the coffee as Callum walks in. Ben leaves the empty coffee pot on the counter and shoulders past Callum without saying a word.

They all go out for dinner one time for Kathy’s birthday, and Ben ends up seated across from Callum. Ben gets more drunk than he means to, and when Callum offers him some water Ben rolls his eyes and lifts his pint to his mouth. 

The worst thing about it is that Callum  _ means _ well, which make Ben’s reactions inherently mean. Nothing Callum does actually warrants behaviour like Ben’s but he can’t help it; Callum makes something under Ben’s skin itch and as time goes on, Ben grows more uneasy. 

Callum does too, it turns out.

Ben stays late one night, pretending to work on the next broadcast but really opening up a bottle of vodka in his own dressing room. He doesn’t drink to get drunk, just to feel the burn in his throat which isn’t what it used to be, see the reflection of his pale face in the mirror, eyes red-rimmed. 

He reminds himself of his old man. Maybe he does need to talk to someone.

He goes looking for Lola. Her car is still parked outside so she must be around somewhere.

Ben eventually finds her, in the break room, playing a card game with Callum. They look like they’re having fun, just two colleagues hanging out after work, grinning faces and a twinkle in Lola’s eyes she doesn’t always have, and Ben feels his blood run cold at the sight as soon as he opens the door. 

He sees Lola’s face drop as she looks at him, at the state he’s in.

Ben’s brain moves too slow so he stays in the doorway, and maybe Lola thinks he’ll kick off so she quietly says something to Callum and then walks over to Ben. 

Ben sees Callum’s eyes on him just before Lola pushes him out and closes the door behind them; Ben can’t tell if Callum is irritated with him or feels sorry for him, and he doesn’t know which one’s worse either.

“What’s the matter with you, ey?” Lola hisses, the two of them together now in the hallway, most of the lights already out spare a few. Ben gives her a weak shrug, feeling like a child being scolded. 

Lola grabs his chin with her thumb and index finger, roughly turns it toward her, her eyes searching Ben’s face. After a few seconds she lets go and sighs. 

“You know I love you Ben, and I defend you every time someone here asks how the hell you’ve still got your job, but I’m starting to run out of reasons.” She looks to the side, down the long hallway, opens her mouth and closes it again.

“You know,” Lola says, pointing a thumb back at the closed door of the break room, “he wonders what he’s done wrong. Why you’ve been a dick to him ever since he got here, even though he’s just doing his job every day.” Ben scoffs, and Lola’s in his face in an instant, fierce as ever.

“You make him feel like shit about himself,” she says, the words slowly rolling off her tongue without losing their sharpness.

“Get a grip,” Lola all but bites, then followed by a softer, “please, Ben.” She lets the door of the break room gently click behind her. 

Suddenly Ben feels exhausted, standing alone in a darkened hallway, every limb pulling him down to the ground. He leans against the wall for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. 

There’s laughter from the break room again and Ben starts walking away, taking his phone out to order a taxi as he goes. 

He’s in early the next morning, so much so that Kathy raises an eyebrow at him when he puts a coffee cup in front of her. “Your favourite, from that place you always say is too far away to go to just for the coffee,” Ben says, voice rough from his unsuccessful attempt at sleeping off the booze from last night. Kathy brings the cup to her face and smiles, smelling the coffee through the small gap in the lid. “Thanks Ben.”   
  


He finds Lola in the break room, gives her a coffee as well. “You know you can’t just-” Lola starts, and as much as they argue and bicker like they’re getting paid for it, Ben knows how lucky he is to have someone like Lola in his life to knock some proverbial sense into him when needed. “I know,” Ben cuts her off. He knows he’s not fixing everything by buying coffee but it’s something. She nods at him. 

“Callum in yet?” Ben asks hesitantly, after a few beats of silence, and Lola’s eyes fall on the one remaining coffee cup in the cardboard tray Ben’s holding. “Meeting room.”

Callum’s sitting by himself at the head of the table, going through notes, all other chairs empty. It’s not that big of a room but it seems massive when there’s just one person sitting at a long table.    
The room is bathed in a starting blue, the big windows on one side of the wall showing the slowly lightening sky as the sun comes up. Not one of the shades of blue matches the one of Callum’s eyes.

Ben hovers by the door, takes a deep breath and then knocks. Callum looks up, sees Ben through the window next to the closed door. He doesn’t seem particularly inclined to let Ben in and Ben knows he hasn’t given him any reason to, so he awkwardly holds a hand up.

Callum nods at him and Ben takes that as permission to go in, so he does and closes the door behind him.

“Got you this,” Ben says, putting the cup down in front of Callum, who looks at it with narrowed eyes. “Why?”

Ben sighs. “Please just take it.” 

Callum huffs a humourless laugh. “I don’t want it.” He pushes the cup away and brings his attention back to his notes. 

Ben contemplates leaving but decides against it, instead taking a seat on the chair closest to Callum, who immediately lets out an annoyed huff, rolling his eyes. 

“I know you’ve somehow decided I’m the worst thing to happen to this place but I-” Callum starts, and Ben opens his mouth to interrupt but Callum pushes through, “no Ben, listen to me, you’ve been really awful to me since the first day I got here and I’m not just gonna forget that because you got me a coffee once.”

It’s the angriest Ben has ever seen Callum, the veins in his neck standing out, eyes sharp and jaw set, and Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t find it at least a little bit attractive.

“So, what you’re saying is, you want a coffee every day from now on?” Ben says, tone light, and there’s a split second where Callum looks completely exasperated, but when he meets Ben’s eyes one of the corners of Ben’s mouth lifts, and the peak of Callum’s fury seems to dissipate, and his face turns into something slightly more soft, less fiery and vehement. 

Ben nods to the coffee cup. “I got you something over-the-top sugary, I assume that’s what you like.”

Callum’s face does something that Ben can’t quite place, but the tension’s somehow back in the room and of all the things Ben has said to Callum, he’s at a complete loss how  _ this _ somehow rubbed him up the wrong way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Callum says, brows creased and something defensive in his tone, but there’s a nervousness there that’s suddenly so present that Ben can feel a knot of anxiety in his own stomach. He holds his palms up. “Nothing mate, just a coffee.”

Ben’s genuine confusion must read true to Callum, because he in turn looks embarrassed at his own over-reaction. His shoulders drop slightly and his eyes get all sad and lost, and Ben feels like he’s just gotten angry at a puppy. A giant puppy with long limbs, but still. Those eyes really sell the picture.

“Right,” Ben says, tapping an awkward hand on the table once, “I best be off, get ready ‘n all that.” Callum looks at him, almost sheepishly, and Ben hates the apologetic pull around his face. This isn’t how they do things,  _ Ben’s  _ the one who always fucks things up and then has to swallow the self-loathing bubbling up in his throat as the people around him look at him like they genuinely expected better from him. 

The unwarranted irritation he’s felt towards Callum since they had to work together weighs heavy on his stomach, and Ben wonders when he started to  _ care _ like this. 

  
  


***

  
  


What Ben had so desperately hoped for does finally happen, somewhat. Things settle down at work. It’s a combination of trying to restrain himself from drinking, keeping his head down and focussing on work, and keeping contact with Callum to a minimum. 

He meets up with Lola every now and then but stays away from most work do’s, instead going home. Lola tries to persuade him to hang out with Callum a few more times. “He’s a great guy Ben, and you could do with a mate.” Ben knows she means well, and he doesn’t even necessarily think she’s wrong; she’s become good friends with him. 

But something swirls inside of Ben when he sees Callum, and it feels like a warning. It makes him feel on edge, like everything could crumble around him in a split second. He’s not even that desperate for a friend. 

Somewhere deep down, Ben knows it’s probably not that Callum’s not good for him, it’s that  _ Ben’s  _ not good for Callum. 

So they don’t talk that much, other than what’s necessary to literally get the job done. Callum attempts to establish something more of a bond than whatever weirdly frigid thing they’ve got going on now, but quickly realises Ben won’t let that happen, so they stick to what they know. It’s less than comfortable, still makes Ben feel like he’s being cruel, but it’s enough and it works for now.

  
  
  


The storm picks up again before Ben can do anything about it. And as hard as he works, to try and stay on the right path, you can’t control everything.

He knows it’s approaching, always does, never forgets,  _ never _ . 

But his legs get heavier every day, head pounding by the time he puts it on his pillow, lying awake for hours anyway. It makes things feel pointless. 

Lola and Kathy look at him every day, knowing what’s happening just as well as Ben, but Ben pretends he can power through it. 

When it’s a week away, Ben can feel it pulling at him, dragging him down. His muscles don’t feel strong enough as he crawls out of bed and lugs himself to the studio. But he’s angry, isn’t he? He’s still angry, how could he not be. So why does he feel so weak? He can’t be buckling now, everyone else has already turned away. 

The sizzle of anger in his veins stays just that, a sizzle, the noise enough to give him hope of something more, that he’ll have enough strength to get through this okay, that maybe something will  _ change _ now, but it’s gone as soon as he hears it. The sky becomes heavy with clouds, pressing down onto his shoulders, and Ben hates himself for feeling the tremble in his knees.

Kathy asks him on Thursday if he wants a change of shift for Saturday night, even though she knows Ben will turn the offer down. It’s highly unusual, their evening news always the best watched one, and Ben’s their familiar face. He shakes his head, like it’s casual, and Kathy’s eyes flicker before she nods. 

He sees Lola hovering every now and then, from the corner of his eye, unsure of what to do, and he wishes it wasn’t like this. He’s unreachable, and Lola knows that. There’s nothing she could do that would make it all go away.

  
  


As Ben walks back from set to his dressing room, he blows out a deep breath. He makes sure he gets to his dressing room quickly, and once he’s there and the door is shut, he leans against it for a moment, closing his eyes as he lets his head drop. 

There’s chatter in the hallways, people laughing as they walk past, and Ben knows at least someone is going to attempt to get him to go along to the Vic, and he’ll say no.

It’s Lola in the end, poking her head through the door as Ben is taking off his tie. He sees the resignation in her face as he turns down her attempt to make him feel better, and he tries to swallow the guilt. She gives him a nod and a smile that drips with pity and then leaves him be.

Ben doesn’t go home, doesn’t want to be alone in that bed, in that house, by himself. He kicks off his dress shoes and lies down on the leather sofa. The dread in his stomach builds, climbing up to his ribcage and clawing up into his chest, squeezing hard. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and Ben knows there’s nothing he can do. All he can do is hope he falls asleep at some point tonight, and magically, everyone in the world has collectively decided to skip tomorrow. That day doesn’t have to exist.

Ten minutes have passed when there’s a knock on his door. Ben frowns when there’s nothing else; everyone in this building has an annoying habit of knocking and then entering straight away, making the gesture of knocking completely superfluous.   
  


“Yes?” Ben calls out, and the door opens slowly. 

“Hey,” Callum says softly, the yellow light from the small lamp in Ben’s dressing room falling over his face, colouring it in warmth, and Ben swallows thickly.

“You’re not going for a drink either?” Callum asks, and Ben shakes his head. Callum’s eyes bounce over Ben’s face for a moment, and he clearly comes to the conclusion that everyone has today, that Ben’s not in the mood for  _ anything _ , so he nods a few times.

“Alright, well have a good weekend then,” Callum says, giving Ben a small smile, and he’s nearly closed the door when Ben says, “Callum?”

_ Don’t do this, it won’t help, it will only make things worse. You’re enough of a mess already, you need to stop letting yourself get distracted. Don’t get him involved in this, you’re not worth it. He can do much better than your company, and you’re not able to give him what he deserves. You’ll ruin it. You’ll ruin him. _

“Do you want a drink?”

Callum blinks twice at him, expression going blank like that was the last thing he 

expected to come out of Ben’s mouth, which isn’t entirely unfair.Then it breaks, and a small smile forms, something soft and tender, as if this is Ben reaching out and making an effort to be nice and not just Ben who selfishly needs the company because he can’t bear to be alone. Callum’s cheeks colour rosy and Ben tells himself he doesn’t find it endearing as he walks over to his closet and pulls a bottle of whiskey out of one of the drawers. 

Callum sits on one end of the sofa and Ben takes a seat on the other when he returns, bottle and two glasses in hand, the sound of his socked feet on the ground gentle and way too intimate, like Callum might as well be in his living room.

Ben pours them both a glass and sets the bottle on the ground next to the sofa, handing Callum his glass and clinking his own against it. 

“What are we toasting?” Callum says quietly, glass hovering near his mouth as Ben swallows his sip. Ben shrugs. “The weekend.” The one a year he wishes he could skip.

Callum thinks for a moment, taking a small sip as well. “Got exciting plans?”

Ben pauses, eyes on the amber slowly rolling in his glass, and he brings it closer, throwing it back. “Wish I did,” Ben mumbles, and silence stretches between them. 

Callum looks at him every now and then, and Ben knows he knows there’s something they’re not talking about, but he finds himself appreciating the company anyway.

He’s aware of Callum’s eyes following him from over the rim of his glass as Ben pours himself a second drink. As he settles again, his phone buzzes. 

“Everything alright?” Callum asks when Ben frowns at his screen.

“Yeah, just Lola asking if I got home alright,” Ben says, biting the inside of his lip as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. 

Ben knows he can call himself lucky to have someone like Lola by his side, willing to put up with his bullshit but not letting him get away with it, and even though he feels guilty about not letting her help him, Ben knows he would also feel bad if he did. 

The mere thought of Lola staying with him during  _ that _ weekend, the both of them on the sofa as she holds his hand and lets him cry, tears running down a bloated red face, that soft look on Lola’s face that says  _ oh Ben _ ; he can’t stand it. It makes him itch under his skin, and at least by facing it on his own, Ben is the only one who has to deal with it. 

“You didn’t seem yourself this week,” Callum says then, suddenly, eyes searching Ben, like he’s taking a leap and trying to decide if it’s worth the effort. 

Ben ignores the stutter in his heartbeat and tilts one of the corners of his mouth up. “Yeah, what am I like then?”

Callum looks away for a moment, a small smile dancing around his lips and when he looks back up, his eyes are soft and teasing, crinkled at the edges. 

“Well, you were less of a pain in the arse for starters,” Callum says, sitting up a little and sideways, turning his body towards Ben, “no running commentary and little digs whilst walking around like you own the place.” Ben laughs, something genuine bleeding through the haze, giddy with the fact that Callum’s playing along, and Callum’s smile in response is breathtaking.

Their laughter quiets down, and Ben takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. 

“It’s just not been my week, I guess,” Ben says simply, and they both know there’s more to it but Callum gives him an understanding nod anyway. 

Callum takes another sip of his whiskey, barely halfway through his glass, still on his first drink.

“I’ve never really had whiskey before, it-”

“It’s the anniversary tomorrow.” Ben says, cutting through the light atmosphere, voice rough and heavy.

Callum blinks at him. “What?”

Ben swirls his glass in his hand, watching the liquid move with it. 

“Tomorrow. It's been two years since my boyfriend died.”

Callum, understandably, doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information. But he hasn’t walked out or gotten upset, he’s just sitting there, and Ben’s mouth keeps talking.

“We went out together, Friday night. Some club that wasn’t a gay bar, but it was supposedly gay-friendly,” Ben says bitterly.

“He was outside waiting for the taxi, I’d gone back in to go to the loo,” Ben presses his lips together for a moment, pausing, “I’d quickly kissed him before I went. Nothing big, just a peck. When I came back he was lying on the ground in an alleyway closeby, all bloodied up and barely conscious.” There’s a film of tears over his eyes now, Callum nothing but a blurry shape sitting next to him, and Ben’s kind of grateful that he can’t see his face right now.

“He died in the hospital a few hours later. Severe damage to his brain and organs.” Ben sniffs a few times, a burst of humourless laughter bubbling up. 

“And then the real kicker came, because I had to report on his death the next day. Saturday evening news, sitting behind a desk in a fucking suit and tie, telling the residents of Walford that a gay bloke had been killed. As if he was a stranger.”

Callum clears his throat carefully. “Was there no one else to take over?”

Ben shakes his head. “Kathy tried to pull some strings but the station was struggling back then, we couldn’t afford it. One of the higher ups, Phil, even came down here to ensure that I would do it. I had to say it twice, once in the morning and once in the evening.”

The hand that isn’t holding a glass clenches, fingers flexing as the tension he felt that day creeps back into his limbs. The look Phil had given him, even as Kathy pleaded with him to have someone else do it, barely hiding his discomfort as it was explained to him that Ben didn’t want to report on his  _ boyfriend _ dying. Ben didn’t miss the once-over Phil gave him. 

When Ben finally looks over at Callum again, he’s looking at him incredulously. 

“How did you even get through those broadcasts?”

Ben shrugs. “I was drunk, but not enough that I was slurring. Took some strong painkillers.”   
That morning broadcast had felt like practice, knowing that the Saturday evening news usually attracted the most viewers out of the entire week. The words had felt foreign on his tongue and the voice that came out of Ben’s mouth didn’t sound like his own.   
  


Callum puffs out a short burst of air, leaning back slightly as he looks at Ben. 

He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, debating on whether he should say this or not. 

“They should’ve taken better care of you.”

Ben looks at him, surprised that  _ that’s _ what Callum decides to say after learning what happened. 

“Weren’t their fault,” Ben dismisses weakly, and Callum scoots just that little bit closer, leaning in.

“I’ve seen you here, working. You’ve given your entire life to this place. They should have protected you.”

He looks almost angry, Ben realises. The sharpness and ferocity in Callum’s words make him look away for a moment. He knows what Callum’s saying.  _ You deserved better _ . That, coming from one of the most genuine people Ben has ever met even though Ben has given him nothing but grief, is almost too much to bear. 

“I had Lola,” Ben says, and Callum’s face softens slightly, “she was there for me last year.”

He takes another gulp of whiskey. “I just hate that day.”

“It’s stupid, because on the one hand I  _ want  _ it to feel like any other day just so I can get through it. On the other hand, I have to sit there tomorrow and talk about petitions against plans for a new car park and about how the bins don’t get collected properly on a few streets.” 

Ben meets Callum’s eyes. “They’ve all forgotten him.”

  
Callum taps the bottom of his glass on Ben’s leg. 

“You haven’t. That’s probably what he’d care about.”

Ben bites on the inside of lip to stop it from wobbling as he gives Callum a watery smile. 

Callum puts his unfinished drink on the table and turns back to Ben.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

Ben doesn’t immediately respond, and Callum hurries to clarify himself.

“Not, obviously not in- I don’t mean-”

Ben places a hand on Callum’s knee. “I know, I understand. I’ll be alright.”

Callum waits, searches his face for a moment, gives Ben a chance to change his mind and then gives him a quiet, “okay.”

He gets up slowly, takes his time getting to the door and when he gets there, he pauses.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Ben nods at him. “Yeah. And Callum?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Ben gets to the bottom of the bottle after Callum leaves. The couch isn’t soft and it doesn’t allow any comfortable sleeping positions but he makes do, and when he wakes up to the rustle of people in the building, he thinks he slept a few hours in the end. 

He’s nauseous as soon as he sits up, and there’s a voice which vaguely sounds like Lola in his head that’s telling him to eat something, but he’s not sure he could keep it down.

After a few deep breaths he makes his way over to the closet, pulling out a fresh dress shirt and a tie. 

He has to get to set soon, and when Ben looks in the mirror he huffs with annoyance at his reflection; a pale complexion, darkness under his eyes and a red tinge to his eyeballs, probably a combination of alcohol and a lack of sleep. Ben runs a hand through his hair to try and make it look like he made an effort and then changes his shirt. 

Ben stands in the middle of his dressing room, wearing everything except his tie. It’s black, appropriately. He can feel his chest going up and down with a speed that’s probably too quick. The panic is rapidly climbing but there’s no time for this, Ben just needs to get through this one day and then it’ll be over. Until next year.

The fabric of the tie somehow feels too smooth and the sensation makes Ben’s skin itch as he runs his hands over it, trying to untangle it. His fingers tremble, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears now, a faint buzzing coating everything. 

  
There’s a knock on the door, immediately followed by, “Ben?”

Callum’s clearly more prepared for Ben’s state of mind this time because he doesn’t wait for Ben’s response but opens the door and closes it behind himself.

Ben turns to him, every part of him shaking, his breathing harsh and uneven, the tie twisted in his fingers. He looks helpless.

Callum’s close to him within seconds, gently pulling the tie out of Ben’s hands.

“I got you,” Callum says quietly, and Ben lets a little bit of air out of his mouth.

Callum’s long fingers smooth out the tie and then, after a quick glance at Ben, he lays it around Ben’s neck and starts tying it.

He’s meticulous and careful, doesn’t tug too hard and makes sure the knot itself is neat. Ben follows Callum’s eyes as he focuses. Callum pulls the knot up, slowly, up to Ben’s neck, and their eyes meet. 

Ben swallows. “All good?”

Callum nods. “Yeah.” His hand is still resting on Ben’s chest, on top of the knot, and Ben brings up his own hand and covers Callum’s with it.

“You’ve got this,” Callum assures him, and when Ben looks away for a moment he gives a small, “hey.”

“You’re not alone out there,” Callum nods to the door. 

The moment lingers between them, the warmth in Ben’s stomach and somehow he feels the calmest he has in the past week. Callum is such a steady presence; Ben has never been around someone who makes his head go quiet like this. 

He’s got a soft smile, and it’s only for Ben to see, and Ben suddenly feels so tired he has to resist the urge to just lean forward and let his head fall against Callum’s chest, hoping he’ll hold him. 

There’s a harsher knock on the door now, more a banging sound coming from a fist, accompanied by a, “two minutes!”

Ben breathes in deep, letting his arms hang by his sides, and Callum gently pulls on his tie one more time and then lets it go. 

“Ready?” Callum asks.

Ben has learned from last year that the morning news is tough to get through, because it makes this day real, and the evening news is the big thing he worries most about, partially because by that point, he’s been anxious and tense for hours.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

The studio lights have never felt harsher and brighter on his eyes and he’s never been more aware of just how many people are on set but once Ben is seated, he feels a sense of relief.

Habiba can probably read him better than Ben gives her credit for, because she quietly gets to work on the dark rings underneath his eyes and doesn’t say a word the whole time. She squeezes his shoulder before she leaves.

Ben checks to make sure his notes are in order, shuffles his papers to make sure they’re all neatly stacked on top of each other and moves his chair back and forth a few times.    
The broadcast still has to start but Ben’s surprised by how far he’s gotten already. This time last year he was a lot worse for wear.

And then he hears someone call out the date, maybe a minute before the countdown starts. It’s standard, Ben has to mention it at the start of every broadcast. 

Still, those numbers in that specific order will never mean anything else but pain. 

Ben wavers, can feel how wafer-thin the calm he just felt actually was as it crumbles under his feet. His breathing immediately shoots up, and Ben’s eyes chase through the room as he searches for something,  _ anything _ to hold on to.

Lola gives him a reassuring nod, mouthing ‘ _ you can do this _ ’. And his gaze follows the path to Callum, standing at the side near the screen he’ll have to use in a bit. 

‘ _ You okay? _ ’

Ben gives him a shaky nod despite not believing it himself. 

Callum lays a hand over his heart and gives Ben a firm nod.  _ Even if the whole world has moved on, you’ll always carry him there. _

Ben barely hears the countdown but he gets through his first few lines okay, and that helps calm the uneasy swirling in his stomach.

He’s more sober than when he was doing this last year, yet it flies by like he might as well have been completely out of it.

“And then lastly, over to Callum Highway for the weather. Callum, what have you got for us?” 

Ben smiles as he turns his chair and his attention to Callum, the relief of having taken the first hurdle flooding his system, and there’s a grin on Callum’s face that shines with pride as he smoothly transitions into the weather report.

As soon as the lights dim again and the camera’s stop rolling, Ben can feel the exhaustion taking over. Lola immediately rushes over, taking his face in her hands and kissing his cheek. 

“Well done mate,” she whispers in his ear as she pulls him in, and Ben closes his eyes, lets it linger for once instead of insisting he didn’t do anything special.

When he opens them again he sees Callum packing up his stuff, and their eyes meet for a brief moment. Callum smiles at him and then leaves.

Ben pulls back to look at Lola. “I think I’m gonna kip for a bit in my dressing room, I’m knackered.” She rolls her eyes at him. “Such a diva.” The fond smile she gives him next takes the punch out of her sneer and Ben grins at her.

When Ben turns the corner he finds Callum hovering in the corridor, near Ben’s dressing room.

Ben slows his step, watches as Callum pulls out his phone and taps a few times, but it’s so short that Ben’s sure he’s just refreshing his e-mail out of habit or something. He keeps shifting his weight as well, from one leg to the other.

“Hey,” Ben says with a smile as Callum spots him, walking closer. 

“Hi, I was just,” Callum says, pausing, tightening his grip on the folders he’s holding to his chest as he thinks, “I was wondering what you were planning on doing until tonight’s broadcast.”

The Saturday afternoons are always long, with only a morning and an evening broadcast. Going home in between feels kind of useless, he won’t relax fully anyway.

Drinking usually speeds things up.

“Ehm, I thought I could try and sleep for a bit, see if that helps,” Ben says, and he sounds unsure of himself suddenly. The adrenaline of that morning’s victory is starting to dissipate and now his limbs are starting to shake again. Tonight seems far away.

Callum definitely catches on because he takes a step closer and puts a gentle hand on Ben’s arm. “You look like you could use it.” 

Ben narrows his eyes at him, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks.”

Callum laughs lightly, looks away for a moment and then looks back at Ben again, his face more serious. 

“D’ya fancy some company?”

Ben takes the smallest moment to consider, and Callum immediately backtracks. “Don’t ‘ave to, I just have some things to look over and I could just sit with you if you want, it’s not-”

“Yes,” Ben says, firm enough to cut through Callum’s ramblings, and then, softer, “please.”

He digs two hoodies out of the closet in his dressing room and hands one to Callum.

Ben starts unbuttoning his dress shirt, looking up when Callum is standing in front of him, frozen, the hoodie clutched in his hands like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I’ll, I’m gonna go to the loo,” Callum mumbles before quickly walking out.

When he comes back, Ben has settled himself on the sofa, curled on his side with his knees up. Callum leaves his own dress shirt, now discarded, on the back of the same chair that Ben has thrown his on. 

“Make yourself at home,” Ben says when Callum hovers, and he gets a bashful smile in return.

Callum takes a seat on one of the chairs next to the sofa, and Ben can look at Callum from under his eyelashes. He starts going through his notes, grabbing the tablet every now and then. 

Ben tries not to think about how Callum manages to be almost more attractive in casual clothes as opposed to the suits he wears every day. He also doesn’t want to think about how it’s  _ his _ hoodie. 

Callum catches his eye then, because Ben hadn’t looked away for a minute. “You can go to sleep, I’m fine.” 

Ben nods and closes his eyes. 

But the sofa’s hard and too firm. Not something he’d usually take note of, but there’s no buzz in his veins now, blurring everything. 

He shuffles a few times, rearranges himself, tries to stretch his legs a few times. The armrest is too tough to rest his face on, and after a few minutes he hears Callum drop his stack of papers on the table.

Ben’s ready to apologize for making a fuss but when he looks up, Callum’s right there.

“Move over,” Callum says softly, and Ben does, moves to the other side of the sofa as Callum sits on the opposite side. He holds the arm closest to Ben open, gesturing with his head, and Ben raises his eyebrows at him.

“Come on, I’m a lot softer than this sofa, promise,” Callum says, rolling his eyes, but Ben sees the slight flush in his cheeks.

Ben sits forward slightly and then tilts his body, his face nestled onto Callum’s lap and his legs tucked in.

Callum places a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

Ben nods, and he knows Callum can feel it. The hand on his arm rubs up and down briefly, and then Callum leans forward to grab the papers off the table. Ben can smell the cologne that he’s wearing, and it suddenly hits him how intimate this actually is, despite the both of them pretending otherwise.

Ben tries to sleep, he really does. But he also knows Callum is waiting for him to doze off, and now he’s trying too hard. There’s on and off rustling of papers for a minute or ten but then Callum sighs deeply and puts them on the floor to the side of the sofa. 

There’s not much else to hear except for both of their breathing - Ben’s very much alluding to the fact that he’s still awake.

Gentle fingers touch the hood on Ben’s head, grabbing it at the front and slowly pulling it back until it’s barely touching the hairs at the back. 

Ben’s eyes had been open as he tried to listen carefully to what was happening, but then Callum’s fingers brush past his forehead and into his hair, the fluffy part at the front, and his eyelids fall closed on their own volition. 

The tightness and tension in his muscles drop, his full weight now pressing against Callum, and everything starts to feel heavy.

A quiet yawn escapes Ben’s mouth, and he can hear a huff of laughter from Callum.

There’s warmth clinging to his body now, and he can feel himself getting sleepier.

Callum’s fingers slowly move through his hair, and as Ben settles they get less cautious, lightly tugging on the strands.

“This okay?” Callum says, voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushes over the skin at the edge of Ben’s face, under his sideburn over the stubble there.

“Yeah. ‘s Nice.” Ben mumbles, a wave of goosebumps rising as Callum traces the lines in Ben’s ear with his thumb and index finger.

There’s the smallest of pauses in his movements but Ben notices.

“Hearing aid,” Ben says quietly, “had meningitis when I was a baby.”

Callum hums but doesn’t make a big deal out of it, which Ben is grateful for.

His thumb moves to Ben’s temple, rubbing gentle circles and easing the ache that feels like it’s been there for years. The other fingers slide back into his hair and Ben realises Callum’s hand can cover pretty much his entire head.

“Get some sleep.”

Ben moves around one last time.

“Callum?” His voice sounds small, childlike. He hasn’t put his trust in someone like this in a long time.

“Hmm?” A low hum, just enough.

“Thank you.”

“‘s Okay. Nothing wrong with not wanting to be alone.”

  
  
  
  


There’s a gentle pat on his thigh when Ben wakes again.

His eyelids slowly peel open, his head still drowsy from the deep sleep he fell in.

“You with me?” Callum says, quietly, and as Ben stretches his limbs he pulls his hand away.

As soon as Ben is sitting upright, rubbing his eyes, he takes a shuddery breath in, which turns into a yawn on its way out.

“What time is it?” Ben asks.

“Past seven,” Callum says, and then, “you should eat something before we have to go on.” 

Ben gives him a slow nod, not having it in him to protest. It’s strange now, the intimacy from before still hangs in the air, and it’s as though they’re both afraid to ruin whatever they’ve just shared.

“I’ll see if I can grab a sandwich, can I get you anything?”

Callum shakes his head with a reassuring smile. “Nah, I’m good, ta.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna,” Ben says, slow and awkward as he stands up, now realising he’s kind of forcing Callum to leave.

Callum’s eyes widen as he shoots up in an instant. “Oh yeah, ‘course. I’ll head out as well, I’ve got some things to go over anyway.”

They stand for a moment, neither of them moving, and Ben catches himself mirroring Callum’s grin.

“I’ll just,” Callum says, gesturing towards the door and then waiting another moment before actually heading out.

Ben’s stomach feels more settled when he steps onto set for the final time that day. Eating something and staying sober the whole day was a wise decision.

His entire body feels heavy still with the weight of sleep as he sits behind the desk. Ben’s already looking forward to sleeping again tonight, which might be the most surprising thing to come out of today.

“Thank you,” Ben says as Callum finishes his report, turning back to the camera, “and that’s all from us. Have a good weekend, goodnight.”

“You seem like you’re doing alright,” Lola says, eyes searching his face as she walks up to him in the corridor. 

Ben huffs a light laugh. “Weird, right?”

Lola smiles. “I’m glad.”

He can see Callum, just over Lola’s shoulder, and Ben returns the small wave he gets from him.

Lola turns her head to see what he’s looking at, and when her eyes are on Ben again, she’s got a knowing grin on her face.

“I think maybe that little sleep you had on Callum Highway’s lap might have helped.” She pats his cheek as Ben narrows his eyes at her.

“I wanted to see if you were okay but I quickly discovered you were more than taken care of.” 

Ben rolls his eyes as he wills the warmth in his cheeks to go away.

Lola’s smile straightens then, eyes searching Ben’s face.

“Are you gonna be okay tonight?” 

Ben nods. As lonely as he feels sometimes, he knows he should count himself lucky to have people around him who care so much about him.

“Yes, I will.” He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Lola’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Sap.” She grins.

  
  
  
  
  


Even though there’s no reason for it, things get a little lighter from that point on.

Blurry memories of dark curls and sparkly eyes follow Ben around for a while, but they don’t always fill him with guilt like they used to.

It’s like for the first time in two years, Ben thinks more about the things he loved about Paul than about the pain caused by his absence.

Because he did love Paul, deeply. And he became a better person because of it.

Something tells him he should try and get back to that version of himself, instead of the bitter, more often drunk than not, emotionally detached man he is now. 

If he still has it in him.

And another thing, work gets  _ fun _ .

Ben has never thought that in his life, but it’s true. 

Of course, not every day is easy and there are days Ben would rather skip, but it’s better than before. As fun as work can be, probably.

It’s Callum, Ben realises a couple of months later.

He’s unbearably positive, all the time. He bakes in his free time and regularly brings a batch of something new and experimental to work. 

He’s already better at remembering everybody’s birthdays than Ben is and he hasn’t even been here for half a year.

Ben hates it and loves it in equal measure. 

Something petty twists inside him whenever he overhears his colleagues gush about Callum, or when Callum offers to help anyone in sight at literally any given occasion.

But then Callum catches his eye in a staff meeting, and smiles, and Ben can’t help but  _ melt _ . There’s something about him that makes everything in Ben want to curl up, drop all pretense and just let Callum hold him like he did that one time, that one time they’ve not spoken about since.

They keep dancing around it. 

It’s strange, because Ben thinks it’s safe to say they’re on better terms than before, mostly due to Ben getting his act together. 

But to call them ‘friends’ seems kind of weird as well. There’s something there, they can both feel it, but it’s undefined and fluent and Ben doesn’t know what to do with it. 

All he knows is that Callum’s hand on his arm makes heat curl in the pit of his stomach, and Callum’s smile makes him feel like the world’s not such a bad place.

The deadlock they’re currently in will only be broken if something happens.

A catalyst.

Or, a bomb that wrecks everything, splinters them so they will both have to spend considerable time putting themselves back together, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. 

And Ben realises then, should it happen, after the dust settles, he wouldn’t force Callum to leave. 

He’d leave himself.

  
  
  


But he doesn’t have to think about that, because right now, there’s a power outage in the entire building, and he’s forced to stay there in case the power comes back on and they can still do the evening news. 

Ben’s dressing room is lit purely by a few tealights, some on his desk and some on the table by the sofa. He grabs his phone.

_ You wanna hang out? I’m in my dressing room. X _

  
  
  


“Okay, you got one?” Callum says, a grin on his face as he waits for Ben to finish scribbling on his sticky note.

“Let me think, I can’t go easy on you,” Ben narrows his eyes playfully as he peels the sticky note off and sticks it on Ben’s forehead. Callum does the same.

“Right,” Callum says, repositioning himself on the sofa until he’s cross-legged like Ben, facing him. “Am I a man?” 

Ben shakes his head. 

“Am I a woman?” Ben asks. 

Callum nods.

He then stays quiet for a bit, and Ben taps his foot against Callum’s. “Your turn.”

“I know, I know.”

Ben grins. “Run out of questions already?”

Callum rolls his eyes at him. “Am I… important?”

Ben laughs and quickly covers his mouth upon seeing Callum’s glare.

“I mean, define important. But yes.”

Ben thinks for a few seconds, and then a slow grin spreads.

“You asked if yours is important, so mine probably is. Am I the queen?”

Callum all but  _ pouts _ , and Ben presses his lips together to smother the fond smile threatening to spill. 

“You’re no fun to play games with,” Callum says, sounding so genuinely upset and deflated that Ben leans forward and gently peels the sticky note off of his forehead. 

“Jodie Comer?” Callum says slowly as he reads the note that was on his head, “I was Jodie Comer? Jodie Comer is  _ important _ ?”

Ben raises his eyebrows at him. “Don’t throw a fit now, makes you look like a sore loser. And yes, she is important, I won’t hear anything else.”

Callum gives him a pointed look, shaking his head after a few seconds but Ben sees the smile he tries to hide.

“So, we go again?” Ben asks, and when Callum doesn’t immediately reply, “or something else?”

Callum shrugs. “We could just ask a question back and forth?”

“That’s hardly a game is it?” 

“I know practically nothing about you,” Callum points out.

“You probably know more than you think.” Ben mumbles.

The warm oranges and yellows of the tealights coat Callum’s skin and his eyes sparkle even more than usual, glittering as they catch the light, and Ben finds it hard to look away.

“Favourite colour?” Ben starts.

“Red. Favourite animal?”

“Tiger. Do you have any siblings?”

Callum pauses at that, and what flickers across his face is enough to let Ben know that their relationship is complex. 

“An older brother. You?”

“Two brothers and sister, but it gets a bit murky beyond that,” Ben grimaces.

Callum laughs, and so does Ben, and then silence settles between them, but it’s comfortable. 

The light’s been off long enough that Ben’s eyes have fully adjusted now, Callum’s features highlighted by what the candles cover him with. 

It looks a bit like there’s a flush to Callum’s cheeks, but the yellowish hue is deceiving. He can only tell by putting his hand against Callum’s face and feeling the heat, or lack thereof.   
  


“First kiss?” Callum asks then, after a while, and Ben huffs a light laugh.

“Lola.” Ben enjoys the way Callum’s eyes widen as he raises his eyebrows, a smile pulling at his mouth. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, went to school together. And she also knew me before I knew I was gay.”

Callum makes a light humming sound.

“First kiss after that was a random bloke at a club I think,” Ben scratches through his stubble, “but Paul is probably the one that counts.”

Callum’s face softens, mirroring Ben’s expression as he thinks of a love he lost too soon but loved  _ so  _ deeply, and when Callum looks away for a moment it strikes Ben how much he likes having Callum around, being with him and talking and laughing like they’ve been friends for years when in reality, they’ve spent half of their time together hating each other and the other meeting one another in the middle.

“What about your first kiss?” Ben asks then, and Callum’s head snaps back.

He opens his mouth to speak but then shuts it again, and Ben can almost  _ see _ the thoughts racing through his head.

“That embarrassing?” Ben laughs, and then, when that hazy look in Callum’s eyes still doesn’t fade, “you don’t have to talk about it, it’s fine.”

Callum’s face breaks then, into a soft smile, shaking his head like he’s mentally berating himself for freaking out over something so banal.

“I haven’t really had one yet,” Callum says softly, ‘that’s all.”

“I mean, I have-” Callum continues when Ben stays quiet, eyes bouncing around the room as he tries to piece fragments of sentences together, “I have kissed, you know, people, but I kind of, wanted to start over.”

He inhales and exhales deeply, trying to make the least amount of noise as his eyes focus on Ben again.

“I came out too, so I’m due my first  _ real  _ kiss, I guess.”

“It’s stupid, I know,” Callum says, looking down at his socked feet on Ben’s sofa, the tips of his toes almost brushing against Ben’s.

“It’s not,” Ben smiles, “it’s kind of nice.”

He averts his eyes, looking to the side, watching the flame from the tealight softly sway. 

“That’s so like you,” Ben says softly, one of the corners of his mouth lifted, somehow proud of being able to recognize something as being  _ typical _ Callum Highway.

When he turns his head back, Callum is closer than he was before, leaning forward from his seated position. Everything feels warm and blurred but Callum is sharply in focus.

There’s the smallest second where Callum’s eyes meet his and then Callum’s lips push against Ben’s, the pressure firm enough that Ben knows he’s making a point, yet soft in a hesitant way. 

Callum, holding his own heart in his hands and asking Ben what he thinks.

When their lips disconnect there’s a quiet noise, and then the sound of a burst of air escaping Ben’s mouth. He looks at Callum with slightly widened eyes, Callum who’s still close, nose almost brushing against Ben’s.

Only now does Ben feel his heart pounding in his throat. 

He rushes forward, grabs Callum’s face with both hands as soon as their mouths touch, and Callum can’t hold back a small pleased noise. 

They sink into it, into each other, hands moving from one limb to the other but always pulling, taking,  _ closer _ .

Nothing else exists besides their harsh breathing, the slick sound of lips sliding together and the throaty moans that escape them.

Callum moves a hand through his hair to keep him close, turns his head a little more and curls his tongue into Ben’s mouth, and Ben can feel something dislodging in his chest as heat spikes in his gut. He moves up, onto his knees and pushes Callum back gently, his back lowering onto the sofa cushions as Ben gets on top of him, strong thighs bracketing him. 

The thought occurs to Ben that he should check in with Callum, see if he’s still okay with this, but Callum’s now got one hand on his lower back, pulling him in further, and as soon as Ben’s close enough Callum’s got his mouth on his again. Ben’s forearms are planted on either side of Callum’s head, Ben making an effort to keep a little bit of space between their bodies. 

They take a small pause, fueled by a need to breathe, and Ben can’t remember the last time he felt this way; this specific mixture of delirious, giddy and lightheaded that can only be given to you by someone who makes your heart do funny things.

He can feel Callum’s breath against his own wet lips, the cool sensation a strong contrast to the warmth swimming under his skin. Callum’s looking up at him, with those clear blue eyes which Ben’s had a weak spot for since they first looked at him, and now he can see the reflection of want in them. It’s enough to make him feel weak. 

Callum huffs a light laugh, half-lidded and lust clear in his gaze next to happiness, something giggly and secretive.

“Fuck,” Callum whispers as he brushes a thumb over the skin under Ben’s eyes, like he’s still registering every feeling and sensation that’s racing through his body.

“Does that count?” Ben says, and Callum’s grin in return is  _ radiant _ .

His shrug is half-hearted and teasing. “You did your best.”

Ben presses a smile against Callum’s, getting lost in the push and pull of their mutual want, and he lets himself gently drop down when his arms start shaking.

He slows down a bit, kisses the corner of Callum’s mouth, languid and deliberate, and Callum’s face drops as the muscles relax. Ben pulls Callum’s bottom lip down with his thumb and sucks it into his mouth, letting it go with his teeth. 

As he moves down to Callum’s neck, he hears a soft and affected, “ _ shit _ .” Ben grins against the skin just under Callum’s jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses to it. 

Callum’s neck is sensitive, Ben quickly realises as he squirms underneath Ben in the most pleasurable way possible, a near constant stream of gasps and moans, holding the back of Ben’s head in encouragement as Ben sucks and bites. 

By the time Ben pulls back again to look at Callum’s face, there’s a dark red spot on his neck and Ben can feel he’s hard.

Callum’s eyes flutter open when he doesn’t feel Ben anymore and instead finds him again, hovering over him, just looking.

“You’re so pretty,” Ben murmurs, not even bothering to feel embarrassed because it’s the truest thing he’s ever said and he thought it the moment he first saw Callum. And the way he is now, lips red and bitten both by himself in a futile attempt to keep quiet and by Ben, pupils dark and glittering and a flush high on his cheeks, Ben can’t look away.

Callum’s eyes follow him as Ben traces lines over his jaw, his ear, down to his neck as his thumb pressed down on the fresh bruise ever so gently. 

His gaze darkens at the feeling, and he looks just about ready to dive back in when his eyes widen, comically so, and Callum’s hand flies up to cover the red blotch.

He stills for a moment.

“You really gave the guy who has to be on telly every day a massive fucking hickey, didn’t you?”

Ben presses his lips together to prevent himself from smiling, a smirk peeking through regardless.

“You didn’t seem to mind it a moment ago.”

Callum groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “Oh, you’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

  
  


Ben takes the hand, laces his fingers through his and pins it above Callum’s head.

“We might not even get on air today anyway. And if Habiba asks questions you say that you fell neck first onto a hoover.”

Whatever protest was about to come out dies on Callum’s lips as Ben kisses him again, over and over and over until it feels like it’s all they’ve ever done.

  
  
  


And it’s almost all they do, for a few days.

Every pocket of time in between broadcasts is spent together, in Ben’s dressing room, in a quiet corner of the building, in a narrow alleyway around the corner.    
Or, more accurately, they find time to present the news in between hours spent making out. 

Going home from work and sleeping starts to feel like time  _ away _ from Callum, like that’s all Ben lives towards.

They haven’t really talked about it. About what they’re doing, what it is, what  _ they _ are. Neither of them addresses it and Ben guesses that’s the only way it works. 

Because he hasn’t felt this light and free in a long time, and somehow a grinning Callum pulls him into a supply closet and starts kissing him for all he’s worth, and Ben feels like he’s alive again. Like this is why living is fun and  _ good _ . 

He’s not just getting through the days anymore, trying to get time to pass.    
There’s things to look forward to now. There’s someone looking for him, always searching for him with a soft smile and twinkle in his eye.

Ben turns them around, pushes Callum against the wall of the supply closet and kisses down his neck. Callum laughs above him.

“What?” Ben breathes, stopping for a moment. 

Callum laughs again, lightly. “Nothing.”

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, I know.” Ben says, echoing Callum’s light huff, like they’re both in on the joke.

And they are.

Callum doesn’t ask him out though. Doesn’t start asking for more. He seems content in this fever dream of breathy pants, trousers hanging halfway down your thighs and wanting mouths. 

And Ben is too.

He couldn’t expect Callum to want more anyway, it wouldn’t be fair. Not when he’s not even sure he could handle being in a relationship himself.

If how they started out is anything to go by, Ben wouldn’t be a good boyfriend.

_ Look at how the last one ended up _ . 

  
  


Ben can’t see all that much given the light’s off - “if someone sees the light from underneath the door they might come looking, Ben” - so he feels his way to Callum’s belt buckle.

It’s not too difficult, aided by the fact that it’s probably the fourth time they’ve been in this exact position. 

Ben’s not sure how many of their coworkers they’re fooling, but he also doesn’t care that much.

Callum does. He’s a lot more careful, stills his movements when he hears the sound of someone walking past close to the door. 

Ben doesn’t see anyone else except Callum.

But it still feels like he gets all of Callum, as Callum hides his moans in Ben’s neck, grabs his face and kisses him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth as he focuses on the movements of Ben’s hand around him. 

He doesn’t shy away from it, from showing Ben what he does to him as he tucks himself away and gets to his knees, hands firm around Ben’s hips.

The inexperience Ben thinks Callum sometimes feels a little ashamed about isn’t an issue. Callum listens, notices, is more attentive than most people would be in the supply closet of their place of work mid-blowjob. 

He takes every cue Ben gives him in his stride and enjoys himself almost as much as Ben.

And when Ben has got Callum sprawled across his sofa in his dressing room, and he crawls back up his body to share a kiss, he lets himself lay there, head on Callum’s chest.

He can feel Callum’s heavy breathing, his chest going up and down quickly. Ben says something about wearing him out and he feels the vibration of Callum’s laughter.

Callum doesn’t tell him to get off, doesn’t make excuses and says he has to go, instead pulls an arm around Ben’s frame and lets his thumb draw circles on his clothed ribcage.

They stay like that for a while, just content with being together.

Ben likes it more than he dares say out loud.

  
  


As usual, the one person he can’t hide anything from is Lola.

“Okay so,” Lola says when they’re sitting together on one of the benches outside the building, soaking up the rare rays of sunshine, “you’re hooking up with him now, and now things are kind of weird between you two?”

Ben sighs.

“Just so you know, when I said you should make an effort to get to know him, this wasn’t necessarily what I meant.”

Ben shoots her a glare.

“I don’t know if it’s weird, I just,” Ben presses his lips together, “I don’t know what  _ it _ is anymore.”

“D’ya like him?” Lola asks.

Ben raises an eyebrow at her. “What kind of question is that?”

Lola grabs one slice of the orange she’s eating and throws it at his head. “A normal question for anyone who isn’t emotionally inarticulate, you doughnut.”

Ben plucks the slice out of his lap and places it on the table.

“I don’t know.”

Lola pauses for a moment. 

“If he told you he only wanted to have sex and nothing else, ever, would you be okay with that?”

Ben pauses this time, mulling it over. His heart pangs at the mere question though, and he has his answer.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Lola grins. “Then ask him out.”

“Okay, no,” Ben protests, “I’m not insane.”

Lola sputters. “You  _ just _ told me you like him!”

“So?” Ben says, brows creased, “I’m more of a, sit with your feelings and let it fester, type of guy.”

“Exactly!” Lola exclaims, smacking his arm across the table, “so do something about it for once.”

Ben exhales loudly, squeezing his eyes against the bright sunlight. 

There’s several things that come to mind: how he could ruin a relationship that’s only supposed to be professional and  _ has _ to function as such primarily, how he doesn’t want to hurt Callum, doesn’t want to be Callum’s first experience with having a boyfriend, how he’s scared he won’t be good at it.

But maybe it could work. 

It doesn’t feel likely, but it could. 

And right now, the only thing that gets Ben through the day is Callum’s smile, making him feel like he can breathe easier.

That’s got to be worth something.

Paul would want him to take a leap of faith, he thinks.

  
  
  


Ben is a little rusty when it comes to the dating scene, he quickly realises.

He’s barely gotten his hands out of Callum’s pants when he gets off of his lap and asks him.

“Hey, do you wanna go out to eat sometime?”

Callum looks at him, a dazed and confused look in his face. “What?” He breathes.

Ben squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could crawl into a hole and never come out.

“Sorry, wrong timing, this isn’t- you’ve literally  _ just _ had an orgasm I shouldn’t-” Callum cuts him off by clamping a hand over his mouth.

Ben raises his eyebrows at him, hand still over his mouth. Callum smiles.

“I’d love to.”

  
  
  
  


They pick a small restaurant, on the other side of town.

Ben’s not conceited enough to think there’s a risk of paparazzi getting a shot of two local news anchors going on a date together but he doesn’t want to worry about running into anyone he knows. 

Plus, it’s a nice place. Ben’s nearly a regular there. 

He knows the owner, Tina. He had made reservations for himself and Paul before it all came crashing down, and after Paul had died he would sit there for hours, Tina bringing one cup of tea after the other. It was better than getting drunk in a dark room by himself.

It’s the spot where the city people go for a bit of peace and quiet, and Ben thinks it’s perfect.

He calls Tina to secure a spot, and she’s delighted. 

“Alright, so I’ve got you down for Thursday, 9PM.”

“Brilliant, thanks Tina.”

“‘Course, happy to have ya.” 

Ben smiles even though she can’t see him.

“Is he nice?”

Ben laughs this time. “Yes, he’s nice.”

“I’m glad. You deserve someone nice.”

  
  


In the days leading up to their date, they don’t see each other as much.

Doubts start creeping in at first, maybe Callum’s gone off him. But when he runs into him in the corridor, Ben is corrected.

“Are you still, you know, up for this?” Ben asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too desperate.

Callum smiles. “‘Course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

Ben shrugs. “Dunno, you’ve been a bit… distant.”

Callum’s cheeks colour a little. “Yeah, that’s,” he clears his throat, “it sounds a bit sappy but I kind of wanted to go on our date first before we, you know, do anything else.”

The relief is immediate with Ben, heart squeezing in his chest with fondness as he grins up at Callum, eyes soft.

“That’s sweet, I get that.”

They did kind of do things the wrong way around, he supposes.

“So I’ll see you Thursday then?” Ben asks.

Callum nods and pats his arm before walking off, “yeah, yeah, ‘course. I’ve gotta run.”

  
  
  


After the broadcast on Thursday, before they’re actual date, Callum is gone from set in an instant. 

Ben starts to hurry too, wanting to shower at home and change. 

They’d agreed to get there separately, so Ben goes home by himself, showers and puts on a fresh clean suit.

He decides to go with a navy tie for once, one he’s never worn on telly.

It’s the taxi ride there when Ben gets really nervous. It takes a while as well, and there’s too much time for his thoughts to start swirling down a negative spiral.

He takes out his phone to text Lola.

_ What if this is a mistake? _

His screen lights up again in under thirty seconds.

_ It won’t be, but if it is, there will always be another chance. X _

  
  


Ben gets there earlier than Callum, a quarter to nine. 

Tina squeezes him close as soon as she sees him.

“Uhm,” Ben says, when she guides him to his table and he spots the bottle of wine.

“That’s on me,” Tina says with a smile, smacking a quick kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen. Ben shakes his head with a laugh.

It’s a quarter past nine when Ben pours himself a glass. He supposes it’s not the polite thing to do, but Callum isn’t here yet and there’s an itch under his skin that won’t go away.

He makes sure to sip it though, looking out of the window to watch the planes of grass, the occasional people walking past.

It’s 9:45PM when Tina brings him some chips.

“You should eat something,” she says gently as she places them in front of him. 

“Have you texted him?”

Ben looks up at her, the first date nerves now replaced by something like dread and exhaustion. 

“Yeah, a few times. He’s not responding.”

She squeezes his shoulder before moving on, and Ben takes a deep breath before pouring himself another glass of wine and grabbing his phone to aimlessly scroll through his newsfeed for the fifth time in two minutes.

  
  
  


“Ben,” Tina says, a pained expression on her face, “it’s nearly eleven. I’m really sorry, but we’re going to close soon.”

Ben’s eyes flicker, averting his gaze to hide the shame colouring his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.”

He quickly shrugs on his coat and leaves a fifty pound note on the table.

“Hey,” Tina says before he can leave, a hand to his cheek, “he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

Ben smiles sadly. “I think he does.”

  
  
  


He wakes up the next day with a killer headache and a heavy and constricted stomach. There’s only one other time he dreaded going to work more.

  
  


When he sees Callum for the first time that day, on set, thirty seconds before they go live, Callum can’t even look him in the eye.

The coldness he expected to see isn’t there, Ben finds, and that somehow made it worse.

Callum isn’t cruel enough, but he is. 

Ben gets through his lines, even with nostrils angrily flared and a clenched jaw, and then moves on to Callum’s weather report, gaze averted as soon as the camera’s not on him anymore.

He ends the broadcast in his usual way, and when the blinking red light is off Ben unceremoniously pushes his chair backward and storms off. 

Lola is quick to find him.

“What happened?” She asks, because she knows he’s not making a big deal out of nothing.

“He didn’t show up,” Ben says bitterly.

“He stood you up?” Lola says incredulously, like she can’t believe it, and Ben feels anger rising in his gut. 

He nods. “Sat there like a complete idiot for hours, on my own, in a fucking suit, waiting for him to show up. And he never did.”

Lola looks at him like she doesn’t know what to say, and she doesn’t say anything, just scoots closer and curls up next to him. 

She doesn’t have the answers either, nothing of hope or comfort to offer.

He just didn’t want to anymore, Ben guesses.

What does sting, is that Callum didn’t have the decency to just  _ tell _ him that.

  
  
  
  


Don’t get your honey where you get your money, is what they say.

And it’s true, because things are awkward and stilted and  _ painful _ . 

Ben is angry, constantly, especially on set, and he knows everyone around him can feel it. Including Callum probably, but he doesn’t look to see what he thinks.

Ben hides away in his dressing room the remainder of the time, eyes stinging with tears as he internally berates himself for being so stupid.

  
  


Apparently, the viewers are also starting to catch on to the fact that Ben and Callum’s relationship - in what capacity it ever even existed in their eyes - isn’t what it used to be. 

By Sunday, there’s comments popping up under articles and videos on their website, speculating as to what’s going on behind the scenes. 

Ben knows this, not because he saw them himself, but because he gets called into work on Sunday afternoon by Kathy.

They’re sitting in one of the conference rooms together.

“What’s going on Ben?” Kathy asks.

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He underestimates how tightly-wound Kathy is, and playing nonchalant was not the right decision.

“I want you to tell me the truth!” She says, smacking her palm flat on the table for emphasis.

“We can tell something’s going on you know,” she continues when Ben stays silent, “everyone here knows something’s happened, and normally I couldn’t care less but it’s affecting your work Ben, and that  _ can’t _ happen, you know that. We’ve given you two days now, and you can’t get it together. You should be happy it’s me having this conversation with you, not Phil. We can’t afford this. People are starting to notice and it makes us look unprofessional and immature.

Ben looks to the side, out of the window. It’s sunny out, clear blue skies.

The quiet around them tightens his skin.

When he looks back at Kathy she’s still looking at him, expectantly, disappointment framing the features of her face.

He feels like he’s being scolded by his mum.

“Ben, I’m not sure you understand,” Kathy starts, and this time she looks a little more empathetic, the anger fading slightly, “this isn’t a warning. I’m afraid-”

“I’m resigning,” Ben hears himself say, and when the words leave his mouth, a sense of peace settles. Kathy’s mouth falls shut.

“I’m handing in my resignation, I’m done. Callum is a great weather presenter and you won’t want to lose him, and definitely not so you can keep me, I understand that.” Ben says, knowing he can’t go back from this and it feels more like relief than he thought it would.

“I’ve become a liability to this news station,” Ben rubs his hands down his denim clad thighs, “You’ve already given me enough chances and I won’t be a burden anymore.”

“It’s about time I start doing something else anyway,” he murmurs.

Ben slowly gets up from his chair. 

“I’ll send a letter of resignation tomorrow.”

“Ben,” he hears Kathy call after him but he walks out anyway.

  
  


When he gets home he calls Lola to share the news, right after he emails a letter of resignation to Phil and a few others at the top of the company.

“I can’t believe you’ve actually resigned,” Lola all but whispers, and it sinks in a little more now that he did  _ actually  _ just quit his job.

“I just didn’t want to keep going like this Lo,” Ben says, twisting one of the strings on his hoodie around his finger.

“You really think you couldn’t have worked things out with Callum?”

Ben sighs.

“I don’t know, but when Kathy sat me down I suddenly thought she might tell me they were going to sack Callum because of all this, and I don’t want to be the reason he loses his job.”

It stays quiet on the other end of the line for a bit.

“You’re being a lot nicer to him than he deserves, Ben Mitchell.”

Ben sniffs.

“Also, how is that like, the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Shut up Lo,” Ben snorts. 

She always somehow finds a way to make things light again.

“Lola?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, even though you’ve completely abandoned me now. I’ll come visit soon.”

  
  
  


Ben doesn’t tune into the news Monday morning. He does set his alarm by mistake, out of habit.

Lola texts him, tells him they’ve let Iqra, one of the research team, take over his job temporarily whilst they figure out something more permanent.

It’s halfway through the morning when Ben caves and watches that morning’s broadcast back on his laptop. He skips straight to the weather.

Callum doesn’t look well. His face is paler than Ben has ever seen it, there’s darkness under his eyes that make them look hollow and there’s not a lot left of the bubbly, funny and kind Callum Ben feels more familiar with. 

He doesn’t want to feel sad, or worried. Every hour since that night in the restaurant, alone, Ben has wondered what actually happened. What was actually going through Callum’s head.

And he can’t figure it out, so his thoughts just keep moving in circles.

There isn’t a single outcome that makes Ben feel better about everything, so there’s no use to it either. But every road leads to Ben making a mistake. 

Maybe he did something to upset Callum, and that’s why he backed out.

Or maybe Callum’s a massive dick, in which case Ben had a severe lapse of judgement and should’ve known better.

The rational part of his brain is telling him to move on, as quick as he can. Start looking for other jobs, polish his CV and put in some applications.

But he’s also exhausted. 

It’s like now, now that he’s out of that place that holds so much hardship for him but where he also formed friendships he’ll have for the rest of his life, he can let all of that weight go, he can stop running, and it’s only now that he realises he’s drained. Completely empty.

Ben shuts off his phone and crawls back into bed.

  
  


When he wakes again it’s late in the afternoon. 

There’s a few texts from Lola on his phone, mostly updating him on what’s happened so far during his absence; the frivolous stuff about how two of their interns thought they were arguing in a quiet place but everyone having lunch next door could hear them and how apparently that one bloke who works in the company a floor above them finally made a move on one of the girls from the makeup department of Walford Local and now things are really awkward between them.

Some of it hits too close to home.

But Ben smiles regardless, knowing Lola’s making an effort to keep him entertained any way she can.

Even though he feels better after sleeping - more sleep in the past six hours than he’s had in a singular day in about eight years - any intention of getting on with things and finding somewhere else to work quickly dissipates. 

Because it’s only now when he doesn’t have it anymore, that Ben feels how much his job has shaped him over these past years.

How sitting behind a desk and telling the local community what’s going on made him feel important, and useful. It’s always been the one thing he was fairly certain he was  _ good  _ at, too. He doesn’t have anything else to offer.

Every time Ben checks the time his brain automatically supplies him with what he’d be doing at that point, had he still been at work.

There’s a few moments a day where Ben gets nervous out of the blue because he hasn’t looked through his notes yet. The notes he doesn’t have to write anymore, because he doesn’t work there anymore.

There’s not an ounce of routine left now, so Ben finds himself in his tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt most days, slouched on the sofa, ordering take-aways when he hears his stomach rumble.

He makes himself an unnecessary amount of tea a day, just for the trip to the kitchen and back. 

The mental list of things he’d do if he had the time - cleaning out the kitchen cupboards, actually pulling his bed away from the wall and hoovering in that corner as well, finally being honest with himself and throwing out the books he’s never going to read but kept on a shelf nonetheless - he gets through it a lot quicker than he had anticipated, and after three days of unemployment, Ben feels like he’s bouncing off the walls.

He can’t be alone with his thoughts, apparently. 

Probably why he’s always been a workaholic, it’s the only way he knows how to function. If Ben is busy and keeps his mind occupied, he can’t think about other things that are too complex and short circuit his brain.

Paul’s ghost is always hovering near him somehow, and it’s often that Ben thinks about what he’d think about him now, if he could see him. 

The fear of disappointing his dead boyfriend follows him everywhere. 

Ben misses him. And as he sits on the floor, back against the sofa, he grasps how much of what he misses about Paul, he found in Callum. 

His heart aches, and for the first time in a while, he cries and lets it go.

  
  
  


Lola texts him, a couple days later.

_ Can I give Callum your address? He asked for it and I really think you should talk. _

Ben’s stomach turns at the thought of having to face him, but he knows if he wants to close the chapter, they need to do this.

Callum’s on his doorstep a few hours later, to Ben’s surprise. He guesses Callum left the set as soon as the broadcast was over.    
He feels embarrassed about opening the door in the same clothes he’s been wearing for four days straight (even though Callum wouldn’t know that), his hair messy in a way that wouldn’t be allowed on telly, but then he sees Callum’s face and realises they’re both as bad as each other.

“You look awful,” Ben says, because it’s true, still standing in the doorway, and Callum doesn’t even have the energy to look offended.

“Can I come in?” Callum says, and Ben can hear the nerves in his voice.

He steps aside and Callum walks through.

“Brew?” Ben asks as Callum takes a seat on the sofa.

“No I’m good, thank you.”

Ben slowly sinks down on the other side of the sofa, hands stuffed in his pockets as silence settles over them.

After a moment Ben takes a look to the side, expectantly raising his eyebrows at Callum.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing that comes out of Callum’s mouth.

Ben sighs.

He expects Callum to elaborate, but it doesn’t come.   
  


“Is that it?” Ben says, snappier than he intends but his mind’s been racing with all of the things he’s been wondering and things he wishes he could’ve said before he left and he hasn’t had a chance to, and now he fears the pressure’s been building for too long.

Callum looks startled, still lost in thought and maybe trying to string together a coherent thought but Ben doesn’t have the patience anymore. “What?”

Ben repeats his question. “That's it? After all this, you say you’re sorry?”

Callum blinks. “You don’t, want me to be sorry?”

“‘Course I do Callum,” Ben says, voice rising in volume, “but I don’t-”

He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath.

“You’re angry with me,” Callum says quietly.

“Yes, good observation,” Ben murmurs, rubbing a hand over his face, and then abruptly turns sideways to face Callum properly.

“I just don’t  _ get _ you, Callum. I know I was a dick to you when we first met, but I feel like we at least, you know, became mates in the past few months. And it’s ridiculous, because the more time I spent with you the more I started to like you, and I thought that was a mutual feeling but apparently not! I was making it all up!” Ben shouts, veins in his neck sticking out and he can see Callum biting his tongue, letting Ben rant, which is probably a wise decision.

“I shared things with you, intimate things. And for the first time in  _ years, _ I started thinking about relationships again!” Ben laughs bitterly, no humour to it, “even though mine don’t end well. But  _ you _ made me think that way. Because of how nice and kind you are, and I thought you  _ liked _ me.” His voice breaks at the end, and Ben swallows thickly.

“Did you not want to go on that date with me?” His chest is rising and falling rapidly, narrowed eyes on Callum. “Was I just a bit of sexual experience, was that it?”

“No.” Callum breaks in then, firmly. 

He looks away for the quickest moment, eyes squeezed closed and then he’s back, bright and clear blue eyes on Ben.

“I got scared.”

“I had never been on a date with a bloke before, and suddenly the whole thing became very real, and not just with a random person but with someone I actually really liked.”

Callum’s face blooms into a soft smile, cheeks flushed and the tips of his ears pink.

“And I thought I would fuck it up.”

Ben snorts harshly.

“Well, you did.”

“I know.” Callum says immediately, searching for Ben’s eyes until he’s looking back at him again.

“I completely panicked, and I knew I would also hurt you by cancelling, and I just didn’t know what to do.” He takes a deep breath.

“Just know that it’s not because of a lack of interest.”

Ben bites the inside of his lip, and Callum’s eyes follow.

“I really like you, Ben.”

Ben’s chest expands a little at that.

“Callum,” Ben starts, his tone carrying enough weight that any trace of hope and anticipation in Callum’s face falls away.

“I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Callum opens his mouth to refute but Ben keeps going.

“You made me think you liked me before as well, and I believed you, and then I sat in a restaurant you were never going to go to for hours and felt like an idiot.”

Callum’s eyebrows draw down when he hears about that, and a part of Ben thinks it’s good he knows. He should know how much he hurt him.

Ben gently places a hand on the sofa cushion, right next to Callum’s leg. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for all this,” he says, “and that’s fine. You should start dating men when you feel ready, but I don’t think you do. If you can’t handle being out in the open yet, then that’s how you feel. But you need to be 100% comfortable with yourself before you can share that with others, I think.”

Callum’s eyes glimmer with moisture.

“If you give me some time, I think I’d like to be your friend at some point in the future, if you want. But as for anything more, I’m not what you need right now.”

A teardrop falls on Callum’s cheek, and Ben can’t help but catch it with his thumb, gently wiping it away. Callum smiles softly at him.

“I don’t deserve you being so nice to me.”

Ben shrugs. “I think we both know I’m not a saint, Callum.”

Callum laughs, watery and broken, and sniffs a few times, using the palms of his hands to rub his eyes. “I should go.”

Ben nods. “Okay.”

“Are you going to try and come back to work?” Callum asks when he’s standing outside again, at the door. 

Ben shakes his head. “No, I think I’ve left that behind me now.”

Callum looks to the ground for a moment. “Did Kathy fire you because of me?” His voice is small.

“She didn’t fire me, I quit,” Ben says, and Callum’s head shoots up. 

“It was going to be me or you, so I made it an easy decision.” 

Ben leaves Callum’s face, shocked and open, for what it is and shuts the door.

  
  


A few hours later, when Ben’s had dinner and is sitting on the sofa by himself with the telly on, he stills for a moment.  _ I think I’m okay. _

Yeah, yeah, he’s okay. He doesn’t feel as upset as he thought he’d feel.

There’s a generic action film on that Ben watches with one eye and then he heads up to bed.

He slips under the covers, teeth brushed and a simple t-shirt on, lights off.

And it’s cold. And empty.

He’s alone.

The chapter’s closed now, he can move on.

He’ll see Lola, he’s sure, but he doesn’t ever have to step foot in that place again.

And he’s just turned Callum away. 

For the right reasons Ben thinks, a necessary thing to do, but that means he won’t see him either.

When he turns off the rational, the reasoning behind him quitting his job and saying no to Callum, though all justified, he’s just left with feelings.

Soft, mushy feelings. 

Ben Mitchell’s heart betrays him, time and time again.

He misses work.

And he misses Callum.

  
  


He sleeps a few hours in the end, Ben thinks once he wakes up in the morning, but he’s not entirely sure.

He was tossing and turning all night, flashes of weird images through his head and he couldn’t shut off his brain.

After finally getting closure yesterday, today feels like a fresh start; the beginning of the rest of Ben’s life. 

But time drags, and it’s around 2PM before Ben gets himself underneath the shower.

Maybe something in him doesn’t want to say goodbye, even if it’s for the best.

It’s that evening when Ben shrugs his coat on. He should take a walk, clear his head. He doesn’t get outside much these days, which probably doesn’t help.

He’s near the door, buttoning the last buttons on his coat when he gets a text from Lola.

_ Turn on the news, now. _

Ben’s on the sofa within seconds, a shaky hand on the telly remote.

When he gets to the right channel, Callum’s doing the weather. Sort of.

“-and that’s what we’ll see this week as well. At first we start with a few clouds,” Callum pauses to swallow as he looks back at the screen he’s pointing at, and it’s strange because Ben  _ knows _ he’s doing something different, the usual flow of his report somehow missing.

“And then the sun will come out at some point,” there’s a pointed look to the camera, quickly, but enough that Ben catches it, “but I’m afraid it’ll get hidden again halfway through the week. Because that’s what happens sometimes, isn’t. Even the sun gets scared sometimes.”

Callum laughs, a little awkward and stilted, fighting through his words, and Ben’s heart squeezes with fondness.

“But the light is never far away, even if it takes a little time to show up again. And it will be there, at the end of this week, even if it takes a bit of courage,” Callum smiles softly, not knowing Ben’s wearing the exact same smile at home, and then he clears his throat, eyes widened as he remembers he’s doing a weather report, “and it will take some courage, this is Britain after all.”

He clicks a few more times as the screen changes, pointing out a few other things and then he turns to the camera again.

“And that’s all from me. I hope to see you next time.”

It’s not what he usually signs off with, and it doesn’t really fit as a message to the residents of Walford seeing as the news reader will sign off officially, but the person it  _ was _ intended for hears it. Loud and clear.

“Thank you, Callum, that was… metaphorical, I think,” Iqra says slowly when the camera’s back on her again, before moving swiftly on, and Ben doesn’t hear what she says next.

Callum’s sitting on one of the benches in front of the building when Ben arrives, staring straight ahead, mind elsewhere. The dark night sky covers them both, the air chilly.

He stands up as soon as he sees Ben.

“You saw?” He asks, seemingly surprised at Ben showing up.

Ben nods. “I did.”

“And you came here,” Callum says then, and Ben smiles softly.

“I did.”

“Why?” Callum breathes then, into the cold night air, and Ben comes to stand before him, the streetlights bathing him in warm yellows and oranges. 

“I don’t know,” Ben shrugs, “but you were saying something about courage and clouds and… the sun? I think?” Callum laughs, and Ben laughs with him.

“And I think  _ you _ were the sun, in that particular situation?”

Callum cheeks flush sweetly, and Ben wants to kiss them.

“You  _ are _ the sun,” Ben says then, in the space between them, both of them huddled in their coats. “You’re warm and light and kind and it makes everyone flock to you.”

Ben smiles slowly. “It’s why I couldn’t stand you when we first met.”

Callum huffs a light laugh, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.

“But I kind of need that in my life,” Ben says, “I need  _ you  _ in my life.”

Callum’s mouth curls up, eyes crinkled at the edges and sparkling as he looks back at Ben.

“I need you back.”

One of the corners of Ben’s mouth lifts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And I also need you to know that I want to be the kind of person you deserve,” Callum says then, his face more serious, “the kind of person that will show up.”

Ben smiles, stepping closer until their chests are almost touching.

Callum lifts his hands slowly, brings them to Ben’s cheeks, thumbs gently brushing over the apples. 

“I will always show up for you.”

Ben smiles, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Will you also please kiss me?”

Callum doesn’t say anything but brings him in, kisses him gently at first, soft and tender and everything needed to start healing the scar of a night alone in a restaurant.

Ben twists his hands into Callum’s coat, tugging him closer as the blood in his veins warms. 

Callum’s arms tighten around his waist, and Ben’s having a half a mind to maneuver Callum back onto the bench and taking a seat on his lap. 

Probably not the best idea in front of a news station.

Ben pulls back, slowly and regretfully, still holding Callum close by the fabric of his coat, foreheads knocked together. 

Callum moves back a tiny bit and kisses the tip of Ben’s nose, and Ben thinks he hears himself giggle. 

“Come home with me,” Ben says quietly.

“If you’ll have me,” Callum replies, and Ben reaches down to thread their hands together. 

  
  


Once they’re past the doorstep and Ben’s front door is closed, their coats are the first thing to come off.

The next thing is nearly everything else.

Callum laughs when Ben tries to take his own jeans off whilst still kissing him, and Ben just presses their smiles together.

Ben lets himself fall back on the sofa and pulls Callum on top of him, liking the weight pushing him down, the feeling of being covered comforting.

Callum pushes up Ben’s shirt as far as he can, kissing down his chest and stomach before Ben’s had enough and sits up to quickly pull it all the way off.

Callum takes his time then, soft and thoughtful, placing kisses across Ben’s ribcage and by his hips, his sternum and back up to his collarbones.

“Missed you,” Ben sighs.

“You’re just saying that because I’m about to-” Callum says, and Ben can hear the grin in his voice so he clamps a hand over Callum’s mouth.

“I missed you,” Ben repeats, and Callum’s face melts into something softer.

He moves back up for a moment to kiss Ben’s lips.

“I missed you too,” he kisses down his neck, “and you’re about to know how much.”

Ben laughs at first, but then Callum’s hands grab at his hips as he nips there, and a second later Ben’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth falls open.

  
  


After, when they’ve spent way too much time laying on the sofa with not enough clothes on, and they’ve cleaned up, put their clothes back on, Ben makes them a brew.

While Ben waits for the kettle to boil, he texts Lola. 

_ You were right about me needing to make an effort to get to know Callum.  _

His phone buzzes within seconds. 

_ Never question me again, Mitchell. Also don't need details of how well you're getting to know him. Let's meet up soon. X _

He makes his way back to the living room and curls up next to Callum, who immediately lifts his arm and lets it rest across Ben’s shoulders.

“Ben?” Callum says, after a few moments of comfortable silence. “Do you really think your newsreader days are over?”

Ben shrugs. “I don’t know,” he looks up at Callum, “I think I’m done here, but I don’t know where to go next, you know? I can’t really do anything else.”

Callum makes a noise of protest as he swallows a mouthful of tea.

“That’s not true, you can do loads of things.”

Ben sits up and brings his mug to his mouth. “I don’t think I can list any of the things you’re referring to on a CV.”

When he looks back at Callum, he’s grinning at him.

“Honestly, with your intelligence and discipline and dedication, any place would be lucky to have you.”

Ben settles again, back against the sofa, and smiles at Callum. 

“Thanks.”

“I’m lucky to have you.”

Callum smiles back at him. “Feeling’s mutual.”

  
  


It’s a strange feeling, sitting on his sofa with the man he’ll call his boyfriend within a matter of weeks, when entering a new relationship would have terrified him a couple of months back.

Still does, a little bit.

He’s jobless, too. He has no idea what the next year, next few months will look like, let alone next week or tomorrow. Any bit of security he's ever relied on is gone.

But he lays his head on Callum’s chest, Callum’s fingers running through his hair, and everyone now and then Callum starts talking, telling him things he’s wanted to tell him but couldn’t because they weren’t in the same place, and the sound of Callum’s voice so close is grounding, something to hold onto.

Ben’s never felt safer. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i know it's been a while, but i've essentially been living in this fic for months.  
> it was actually quite a nice place to be.   
> i really really hope you enjoy it, please do leave a comment to tell me what you thought! fic writers are working harder than ever at the moment and with the recent changes ao3 made (whilst necessary and understandable) will make it so the numbers aren't what they usually might be, so be liberal with kudos and comments! it gets you more fic! <3
> 
> if you want to chat or have suggestions or anything else, here is my [tumblr](https://softlofty.tumblr.com/) :)


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